LET THE WEDDING BELLS RING

Congratulations, America!

I've worked a long time for this, and it's been a bumpy ride along the way.

I remember the very first time I heard the phrase, "Gay Marriage". It was the last weekend in June 2002, and I was registering voters for a mid-term election at Twin Cities Pride. It was a good crowd that year, full of high spirits. As I was cajoling passersby to sign up, a young woman shook me off because she was already registered, then turned around and said, "But I won't vote for anyone who won't vote for gay marriage."

It was one of those moments when time changed, everything slowed down as I tried to reconcile her words to the world I knew. Her companion, who I don't remember clearly at all, added something to the effect that until we could marry, we'd never be equal.

My mind went blank. It was a true paradigm shift. My world tilted to the side and shook cobwebs from my brain. I had never thought of it before, why would I? We were barely tolerated as couples. The idea of gay marriage was completely out of my realm of conscious thought. But the seed was planted.

It took root because my sweetheart/partner/special friend (as we were labeled) had developed heart disease earlier that year in a medical event that included a smug clerk safe behind a shield of glass telling me that since I wasn't 'family' I would not be allowed to see her in the ER. Once I knew my sweetheart was going to survive I realized the depth of anger in my heart towards my own country. I'd been terrified, and the witch behind the counter had taken a cruel delight in adding to my torture. That was one reason I was so politically active at Pride that year, an event I'd always enjoyed as a casual participant.

We also had a beautiful granddaughter born that year who quickly became the light of our lives. The idea she might know me not as her grandmother's 'special friend' but rather her wife filled me with hope. The idea wouldn't stop playing in my mind. What if? What if?

On Thursday, February 12, 2004 I turned 47. (I see you doing the math, there.) My Beloved and I were in Fresno, CA visiting my mother. During the news that night we saw the funniest thing; a beautiful couple of elderly women had been legally married in San Francisco. How quixotic I thought. Talk about tilting at windmills.

When the marriages were still taking place two days later we looked at each other and said, "Let's do it." It was Valentine's Day after all. So we quickly packed an overnight bag with the nicest clothes we'd brought with us and took off.

A very long story later (ask me nicely and I'll tell you all about it) we'd weathered the Phelpsians, two days of waiting in lines, a nasty night outside in a raging Pacific storm, and stood on the San Francisco Courthouse steps, waving our brand new marriage certificate at a crowd of cheering strangers.

They invalidated us six months later (not even the dignity of an annulment), but we'd known the thrill of being legitimately married in one place in our country, if only for a handful of days. When our home state of Minnesota legalized Gay Marriage, followed swiftly by recognition by the Federal government, we were finally married in 2013, surrounded by our daughters and grandchildren. It a transcendental day.

But the fear of finding ourselves facing an emergency in a hostile state that would not recognize our marriage haunted us. We travel a lot, and some of the local governments of some of our favorite places would have happily added to our anxiety and grief during an emergency. I carried a photo copy of our marriage certificate with us everywhere.

Today I finally took it out of my purse. I won't need it anymore. My family is now recognized in every state in the Union, and I'm no longer at war with my own country.

We Won!

One year ago social media was suddenly covered with red equality signs. The simple symbol spread quickly, including supportive pictures posted in impressive numbers, and people from all walks of life began to discuss marriage equality, tell their stories, and more importantly, listen. Here is just one of them.

Katherine Forrest's speech:

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My brothers and sisters, I am 74 years old and on this momentous day in the history of our community I speak on behalf of my generation.

Katherine Forrest

My generation was told that our sexual orientation made us criminals. That we were mentally ill. We were thrown out of our families. Thrown out of our churches. Thrown out of our jobs. Thrown out of the military. We were forced into therapy to cure us. We were institutionalized. We were beaten and killed on the streets of our cities.

Until we said no. Until we said no at Stonewall. Until we said no in San Francisco. Until we said no in cities and towns all across America. We came out of our closets. And so many of you here tonight have paid a heavy price for leading us out of those closets.

We showed our faces to America. We said, “LOOK AT US.” We are your sons and daughters. We are your brothers and sisters. We are your mothers and fathers. Who we are has never ever been our problem. It has always and ever been your problem. We have the right to be treated equally under the laws of our own country. We all deserve the right to marry. 

Because we showed our faces to our country, this day has arrived. No matter what those nine people on the Supreme Court decide, our country has looked into the faces we showed them and our country has decided.

My brothers and sisters, we have won our country.

We have won this war.

~ Katherine v. Forrest, at City Hall in Palm Springs, CA, Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Fred Phelps - Unwilling Gay Ally

Fred Phelps hated fags. I don't think anyone can dispute this fact. He was nearly rabid on the subject, and some have suggested that he was tossed on a sea of madness for decades.

It was this very craziness that made him such a valuable ally in the fight for gay rights. He and his family church became instruments of change in the culture war over acceptance of gay rights.

Phelps' ugly persona, almost a caricature of fanaticism, held a mirror up to people who had casually denounced gay rights as special rights, or voted against gay marriage because they vaguely thought it was icky. While gay activists held civil conversations with everyday people, as more and more closeted people came out to their friends, families and co-workers, as prominent politicians, celebrities, and artists voiced their support, Fred Phelps flaunted the ugliness of bigotry back in their faces.

As votes were held people who had never had to think about it before confronted their knee-jerk reactions to gay marriage. On one hand they saw the happy faces of joyous people celebrating legal wedding ceremonies, and on the other they were confronted with ugly striped signs shouting judgmental messages. One side said LOVE IS LOVE, and the other side said GOD HATES FAGS. Which message is more appealing, really?

And the tide began to shift. I felt it and watched with relief as one by one states agreed that having two separate classes of people in America is unconstitutional. As court after legislature have come to their senses, so has the public because the idea of being as horrifically uncivil as the Westboro Baptist Church is much more uncomfortable than accepting that Anna and Eve want to marry, and Patrick and Bill are adopting.

So thank you, Fred Phelps (a phrase I never expected to use). If you hadn't spread your virulence far and wide, we'd still be battling one court case at a time, and trying to persuade one representative or senator after another. We'd still be taking one step forward, and two steps back. But now, because of the ugliness of Fred Phelps and his family church, Americans are choosing to side with LOVE instead of HATE.

Off you go, Fred, a true servant of your God, an instrument in the battle between good and evil. Too bad you were the face of evil, but you can tell it all to Judas over a drink at Hell's Bitchin'. He felt a little used in the end, himself.

I'd ordinarily send someone off with a wish that they rest in peace but for Fred Phelps, not so much.